CHAPTER VII

The next morning, as Mrs. Ritter made her accustomed call, she said to her friend, "Do you feel like talking over a little business matter this morning?"

"Certainly; I am feeling quite like myself," replied the joiner, as he propped his head on his elbow.

"I am thinking of taking Trina away, since you are doing so well," she began.

"Believe me, Mrs. Ritter, for several days I have been urging her to go; I have realized what it meant to you to do without her."

"I shouldn't have let her in if she had taken your advice, but the doctor assures us now that it will be safe for her to leave you, in case some one can be found to take her place. It need not be any one so proficient as Trina, because we could send you your meals from our house. I have been giving the matter a great deal of thought, Andreas, and I think that you ought to have Wiseli come over to stay with you."

"No, no, Mrs. Ritter, of course not!" exclaimed Andreas in astonishment. "Do you suppose I could expect that delicate child to do my work? Oh, Mrs. Ritter, do you imagine I have forgotten for a moment about the girl's mother? Please say nothing more about it, for I would rather never get well."

"But, Andreas, you do not understand me, and I want to tell you something more about it. The child is given very hard work to do where she is, and the worst of it is that they are not kind to her. I should feel so greatly relieved to have her here, because she would at least be treated kindly. I know that Wiseli's mother would want you to take her, so that she might have a real home, and you will be surprised to see how gladly she will come to you and do the little necessary tasks."

"But how could I get the child if I wanted her?"

"I shall be more than glad to arrange that for you if you will trust me with it," replied Mrs. Ritter.

"I must make you promise that she shall be brought only on the condition that she wants to come," said the joiner.

"Yes," said Mrs. Ritter; "Wiseli shall not come unless it is her own wish. I will see you again to-morrow. Good-by."

Instead of going home, Mrs. Ritter went to find Wiseli, for she was eager to free the child from her present surroundings. When she arrived at Beechgreen, she met Mr. Gotti, who was himself just going into the house. "I am surprised to see you over here, and so early in the morning, Mrs. Ritter," he said, as he cordially shook her hand.

"Yes, I am sure you are, Mr. Gotti," she replied. "I have come to see if you could possibly spare Wiseli for about two weeks to care for Joiner Andreas. The doctor thinks that he doesn't need Trina any more, but that he must have some one. I hope that you will not refuse, and that the cure so well begun may be carried to a successful finish."

Mrs. Gotti joined them just then, and her husband explained the matter to her before answering Mrs. Ritter.

"Wiseli couldn't do anything if she went," said Mrs. Gotti.

"The child knows how to do a number of things," corrected the husband. "She is bright and learns readily. I am willing to let her go for two weeks. The spring work will soon begin, and we must have her back then. The joiner will no doubt be well by that time, so this arrangement will be satisfactory to everybody."

"It is very well for you to talk," broke in Mrs. Gotti. "I have just gone through all the trouble of teaching her everything, and when she comes back I shall have it to do over again. The joiner can afford to train a girl for himself if he needs one."

"But, wife, two weeks is not a long time. Mrs. Ritter has spared Trina much longer, and we all have to ask favors sometimes."

"I thank you for the kindness," said Mrs. Ritter, as she rose to take her leave. "I am sure, too, that the joiner will fully appreciate your sacrifice. If you will allow me, I will take the child now."

The aunt objected seriously, but the husband said firmly: "That will be the best way. The sooner she goes, the sooner she will get back, and I want it distinctly understood that it is to be for only two weeks."

Wiseli was called, and told without further explanation to tie a few belongings together; she silently obeyed, not daring to ask any questions. It was just a year since she had come to the house with her bundle. She had been given nothing new during that time except the black jacket she had on; it was thinly lined, and her skirt hung limply to her knees. It was only a moment before she appeared with her bundle under her arm. She looked timidly from her dress to Mrs. Ritter as she entered.

"You are all right, Wiseli; we are not going far," said Mrs. Ritter. Wiseli followed her down the path, after a hasty farewell to the aunt and uncle, and she could not help wondering what was going to be done with her. Mrs. Ritter cut across the fields to make the distance shorter, for she felt as if she could not get the child away fast enough.

As soon as they were out of sight of Beechgreen, Mrs. Ritter turned to Wiseli, saying, "You know who Joiner Andreas is, don't you, Wiseli?"

"Oh, yes," she answered, her face lighting up on hearing the name.

Mrs. Ritter was pleasantly surprised, and continued, "He is sick, Wiseli; do you think that you would like to stay with him a couple of weeks and wait on him so that he will get well again?"

"Of course, Mrs. Ritter, I shall be very glad to go," Wiseli said, and Mrs. Ritter wished that Andreas could have seen her as she said it.

"You must remember to tell him that you are glad to be with him, if you are," said Mrs. Ritter; "otherwise he might think we made you come."

"I shall not forget to tell him," said the little girl.

When they reached the joiner's gate, Mrs. Ritter bade Wiseli enter without her. "Since I know that you like to go to him, I shall not need to go in, but you can tell the joiner that I will be over in the morning, and you must come to me for anything you may want at any time. Good-by."

It was with a light heart that Wiseli ran up the path to the house, for she rejoiced that she was to see the man who had been so kind to her, and that this was to be her home for a few weeks. She understood what was expected of her, and she knew that the joiner was in bed, with no one else in the house, so she entered without ringing. How homelike everything seemed as she looked about! At the farther end of the room she noticed, through the parted curtains, a large bed freshly dressed with a white spread and pillows; she wondered who slept in that room. Then she tapped lightly on the joiner's door, which she opened as soon as she heard a response. The joiner raised himself on his elbow to see who was there.

"Wiseli!" he exclaimed, as if in doubt whether to be glad or sorry. "Come over here and give me your hand." Wiseli silently did as she was told.

"I am sorry that you had to come to me."

"Why?"

"I only mean that perhaps you would a little rather not have come. Mrs. Ritter is always so kind that you did it to please her, didn't you?"

"No, not at all. She never asked me to do it for her. She wanted to know if I cared to come, and I said, 'Yes.' There is no place in the whole world where I should have been so glad to go as to your house."

This must have satisfied the joiner, for his head dropped back to the pillows, and he tried to look at Wiseli, but the tears persisted in filling his eyes.

"What must I do?" asked Wiseli, when he said nothing further.

"I am sure I don't know, Wiseli," said the joiner, gently. "I shall be glad to have you do exactly as you please, if you will stay with me a while first and keep me company."

Wiseli could scarcely believe she had heard aright. Nobody but her mother had ever spoken to her like that. Her first thought was that her mother would be glad if she knew how kind he was. There was the same tenderness in his tones that she used to feel in the mother's, and she unconsciously loved him in the same way. She took his hand in both of hers and chatted with him as freely as if she had always known him.

"I am afraid I ought to be getting dinner," she said at length; "what should you like to have me cook for you?"

"I want you to have just what you like," replied the joiner.

This, however, did not satisfy Wiseli, for she desired above all else to please him, so she asked question after question until she found out what she wanted to know. She knew how to make the soup he said he liked, and she realized now that she had learned many useful things from her aunt, even if they had been taught without kindness. Wiseli prepared the joiner's dinner on a tray and carried it to him.

"I wish you would draw the little table over here and eat your dinner with me," said the joiner. "Mine will taste so much better if you will."

Wiseli was again surprised, but she said, "That is just what mamma would have said."

What a pleasant dinner that was! The joiner was so considerate of Wiseli's comfort that it made the humblest task a pleasure to her.

"Now what are you going to do?" he asked, when they had finished dinner and Wiseli rose from the table.

"I am going to wash the dishes," she replied.

"I suppose such things have to be done," said the joiner, "but I think, since this is your first day with me, that you might stack them up and do them to-morrow; you know there are only a few."

"Why, I should be so ashamed if Mrs. Ritter should happen to come in that I shouldn't know what to do," said Wiseli, and she turned such a serious face to him that he laughed.

"All right," he said; "only remember that you are to do just as you like while you are with me."

Wiseli had not thought that it could be so much fun to do up the dinner work. When it was finished, she said to herself, "Now this kitchen is nice enough for any one to inspect."

She had been told that the alcove opening off from the living room was to be hers, so she hung her few garments in the closet opening from one corner of the room. When she returned to the joiner's room he said, "Good, I have been waiting for you a long time."

"Haven't you a stocking that I could knit while I sit here?" she asked, as she took the chair beside the bed.

"Of course not," answered the sick man; "you have already done too much, and I want you to rest now."

"But I am not allowed to sit idle except on Sunday. Besides, I can knit and talk at the same time."

"If you will be any more contented with a stocking, get one, by all means, but please remember that I don't want you to work unless you prefer to do so," said the joiner.

In this quiet way they passed one day after another. Everything Wiseli did pleased the joiner, and she was thanked for every little service as if it were of the utmost importance. The patient gained so much in strength that he was soon clamoring for permission to get up. The doctor told him that he might sit up whenever he wished, and much of his time was now spent sitting in the bay window in the living room, where the warm sunshine helped to make the days cheerful. He liked to watch his little housekeeper moving about at her household duties, and she succeeded in making his house more attractive than he had ever hoped to see it.

Wiseli so enjoyed herself in this comfortable home, where she had the assurance of being cared for and protected, that she sometimes forgot she must soon give it up and return to her uncle at Beechgreen.

CHAPTER VIII

"There," broke in Miezi, "that is just what he called me! Twice he called me that, and he had his big stick raised like this, and he was going—"

Miezi had her arm raised to illustrate the man's attempt to strike her, when she suddenly caught the warning look from her brother across the table, and remembered her promise not to tell her parents about what had happened that night. In her great confusion her face grew scarlet, and she pushed her arms as far as possible under the table.

"I am surprised to have my birthday celebration take this turn," said the father. "On one side of the table my daughter speaks of something about which we have heard nothing, while, on the opposite side, my son kicks my leg until it feels as if it might be black and blue. I should like to know, Otto, where you learned such gymnastics."

It was now Otto's turn to blush, which he did to the roots of his hair. He had intended to hush his sister with the kicks, but evidently he had not struck where he intended. For a time he was too embarrassed to look his father in the face.

"Well, Miezchen, what was the rest of the story which Otto did not allow you to finish? You say he called you a dreadful name, raised his stick at you, and—?"

"Then, then," began Miezi,—she realized, now, that she had told, and must sacrifice the candy rooster in consequence,—"then he didn't kill me, anyway."

The father laughed heartily. "It was good of him not to kill my little girl, but what then?"

"That was all."

"The story has a happy ending," said the father. "The stick remains poised in the air and little Miezchen comes home as the artichoke. Now let us forget everything except that this is my birthday and that we are to do justice to the feast provided."

Otto, however, still felt somewhat disturbed, and after dinner went off to a corner by himself. He seemed to be reading, but instead, he was thinking about what had happened, for he was very sure that his mother would never again let him go with the others to coast by moonlight.

Miezi went to her room to take a last look at the candy rooster with which she must part, now that she had failed to keep her promise. Mrs. Ritter was seated at the window trying to explain to herself the strange actions of her children. She became more and more restless as she thought about it, and finally went in search of Miezi, whom she found at the foot of the bed in a very unhappy state of mind.

"Miezchen, mamma has come to have a talk with you. I want you to tell me when it was that you were frightened by that man."

"The night that we went coasting by moonlight. I know he called me that word papa used at the table to-night."

Mrs. Ritter now went to find her husband. "I should like to tell you something, Otto," she said.

The colonel laid his newspaper aside and looked inquiringly at his wife.

"I have been thinking about the scene at the table to-night, and I have come to the conclusion that the children were frightened by the same man that tried to kill the joiner. I have just found out from Miezi that it happened the evening I gave the children permission to coast by moonlight, and that was the very night the joiner was hurt. It is much more likely that the man called her 'aristocrat' than 'artichoke.' If so, I should say that the man was Andreas's brother. He is the only one in the world who would think of using that word, and I am sure the only one who would hurt Andreas. Don't you think it likely that it was Andreas's brother George?"

"It does seem probable," answered the colonel, thoughtfully; "I will see what can be done about it." He rang for the coachman to bring the carriage, and a few moments later he was on his way to the city.

For several days Colonel Ritter went frequently to confer with the police, but it was not until two weeks later that they succeeded in getting results. One evening, when the Colonel returned to his home, he told the members of his family that the thief had been captured, and that it was, as Mrs. Ritter had surmised, the joiner's own brother George. He had been living in the near-by hotels, confident that no one had seen him in his home town, because he had passed through in the night.

He denied knowing anything about the affair when he was first arrested, but when told that Colonel Ritter had weighty evidence against him, he inferred that he must have been recognized after all. He lost his temper, and said that of course those "aristocrats" would like to make trouble for him. In answer to questions he said that he had just returned from service in the Neapolitan War; and that he had intended to go to his brother to borrow some money, but finding him with the large sum before him, he saw the opportunity to get it all. It had been his intention merely to knock his brother senseless, so that he could make his escape, and he protested that he had never wished to kill him.

Fortunately, most of the money was still in George's possession. It was recovered, and he was put in prison.

This story caused quite a commotion in the little town, especially among the school children.

Several nights after George had been arrested, Otto came home very much excited. Although Joggi had been set free as soon as George had confessed, he was still too frightened to take advantage of his liberty. He thought that he should be killed if he went out. Finally the police authorities turned him out by force, but he ran quickly to a near-by barn where he hid himself in the farthest corner. Here he had remained for three days, and the farmer had threatened to take the pitchfork to him if he did not go away soon.

"That is very sad indeed," said Mrs. Ritter, when Otto had finished telling her about it. "The poor fellow suffers because his mind is too feeble to understand what is said to him. It is hard that an innocent man should be made so miserable. If you had told me that night about what had happened to Miezi, we should not have caused Joggi so much suffering. You had better try to do something for him, since you might have spared him all this."

"I will give him my red candy rooster," said Miezi, sympathetically.

"A red candy rooster to a grown-up man!" laughed Otto. "You had better keep it, since you are so fond of it."

"They say he has had no food, mother," Otto continued. "I shall be glad to take him some dinner."

Mrs. Ritter gave her consent, so the children packed a basket with good things to eat, and started for the barn to find Joggi. He was there, crouched in the corner as they had supposed.

Otto opened the basket for him to see and said, "Come out here, Joggi, and you shall have all there is in this basket."

Joggi did not move.

"Come, Joggi," continued Otto, "you know the farmer may take the pitchfork to you if you stay here."

At this Joggi screamed and tried to get farther back in his corner.

Miezi was very sorry for the poor man. Going up to him, she whispered in his ear: "My papa will not let them hurt you, so you had better come along with me. I brought you something from Santa Claus. See!" She held out the candy rooster to him as she spoke.

These whispered words restored Joggi's confidence. He looked fearlessly about, took the candy rooster from her hand, and began to laugh in his old way. He allowed Miezi to lead him out, but he would not touch the basket, so they let him follow them home.

Mrs. Ritter was relieved to see Joggi with them. She opened the door for them, and had a good supper placed before the hungry man, saying, "Eat all you want, Joggi, and be happy."

Joggi ate heartily and seemed as pleased as a child over the rooster, which he held constantly. As soon as he had finished eating, he rose to go home, and they noticed that he looked at the rooster and laughed as he went, his great fright apparently forgotten.

For several days Mrs. Ritter did not see the joiner. It seemed a longer time to her, for so much had happened in the meantime; she had not worried about him, however, because she knew that he was well cared for.

The colonel had told Andreas about his brother's confession. "It is like him to do things in that fashion," said the joiner. "I would gladly have given it all to him, but he always takes the wrong way to get what he wants."

One bright sunny morning Mrs. Ritter went tripping down the hill like a schoolgirl. She was going to see Andreas, and she had some plans in mind, the carrying out of which would give her a great deal of pleasure.

When she reached his house and entered as usual, she was surprised to see Wiseli run out of the room in tears, and the joiner sitting in the deepest gloom, as if a great sorrow had befallen him.

"What has happened?" she exclaimed, as she stood still in astonishment.

"Mrs. Ritter," he faltered, "I wish that the child had never come to my house."

"What!" she exclaimed, more amazed than ever. "Wiseli? What can she have done?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, don't misunderstand me, Mrs. Ritter!" he cried. "It is only because she has been here and has made a little paradise out of my humble home that I am so unhappy. They have sent for her the second time, and she has to go back to Beechgreen. I shall be miserable without her. You don't know how hard it is for me to let her go. She would rather stay with me, too, so we are both unhappy over it. I would give the uncle all I have saved in the last thirty years, if he would only let me keep her."

Mrs. Ritter sighed in relief and said, "I should do nothing of the sort; I know of a much better way."

He looked at her questioningly.

"I should adopt Wiseli, if I were you and wanted her. Then you will be her father and she will be your child and heir. Wouldn't that be a better way, Andreas?"

Andreas grasped Mrs. Ritter's hand as he asked eagerly, "Is such a thing possible?"

"Yes"; said Mrs. Ritter, "I thought that you might want to keep her, so I have been looking the matter up, and Mr. Ritter is at home now, so that, in case you want to settle the legal part of it, he can take you to the city immediately, for you are not yet able to go by yourself. Then you will have nothing to worry about, and you can tell Wiseli after you come back."

It was the first time that she had ever seen the joiner excited. He began to get into his overcoat as she rose to go.

"Are you sure," he asked, "that we can get the matter settled to-day?"

"Yes, I am sure," she replied, "and I will send the carriage over at once."

A few moments later Wiseli noticed the Ritter carriage drive up to the gate and the coachman come to assist the joiner down the walk. She was surprised to see him get into the carriage, for he had not told her that he was going for a drive. "Perhaps," she thought, "he did not feel like telling me, because this is the last day that I can be with him."

Wiseli had the dinner ready at the usual hour, but the joiner was not there. She did not wish to eat without him, so she waited and waited, but still he did not come. Finally, she fell asleep. She dreamed that she was again at her uncle's home and that she was very unhappy. She was not aware of the beautiful evening glow in the sunset which promised a pleasant to-morrow.

Wiseli started from her slumber when the door opened. It was the joiner, who had just returned, and his face was as radiant as the sunset. He had been in such a different mood in the morning that Wiseli stared in astonishment.

"I have good news, Wiseli," he said, as he hung up his hat and stepped about as lightly as a boy. "It is all settled. You are legally my child, and I am your father. Call me father this very minute, my little girl."

All the color had left Wiseli's cheeks, and she stood uncomprehending and speechless.

"Of course you don't know what I am talking about," he said. "I begin at the wrong end because I am so glad. This is what has happened, Wiseli: the proper authorities have to-day given me the legal right to take care of you. I have been to the city and the matter is arranged, so that we really belong to each other. You shall never go back to your uncle's again, for now you have a home of your own."

His meaning dawned at length upon Wiseli, although it seemed too good to be true. Impulsively she sprang into his arms. "Then I can always call you father," she said. "I know who knew that this was going to happen," she added.

"Who knew it would happen, Wiseli?"

"My mother knew it would."

"Your mother! How, Wiseli?"

"In my dream I saw the path that leads to your house, and she was pointing to it and saying, 'See, Wiseli, that is your path.' So mother must have known it," she added. "Don't you think that she helped to bring it about, father?"

The good man could not answer, for his heart was full and his eyes were dimmed with tears, but he looked at Wiseli so lovingly that she understood.

Suddenly the door was thrown open, and Otto fairly sprang into the room. He threw up his cap and shouted, "Hurrah! We've won, and Wiseli is free."

Miezi came in next, almost breathless, and as she held the door open she cried, "See what is coming for the celebration!"

There was the baker's boy carrying so large a board on his head that he stuck fast in the doorway, and they had to help him to get it into the house.

It was explained that Otto and Miezi, having permission to order as large a cake as they wished for the occasion, had told the baker to make them the largest he could, so he had baked one just the size of his oven.

Trina came with loaded baskets which contained a well-browned roast and tempting vegetables, for Mrs. Ritter knew that the joiner had not been able to eat his dinner, and surmised rightly that Wiseli would not have eaten much by herself. Trina prepared things on the table so that they could all sit down. It was a joyous occasion for every one present. The feast was followed with merriment and song until a late hour.

At last Trina stood ready to return, and the guests rose to go.

"To-night you have brought the feast to us," said the joiner, "but one week from to-night I invite you all to come back to a feast that I wish to provide in honor of my little daughter."

Then they shook hands in the pleasant anticipation of coming together again soon, and in general satisfaction that their little friend had at last a home of her own. Wiseli followed Otto to the door and said: "I thank you a thousand times, Otto, for all that you have done for me. Chappi never hurt me again after you choked him, because he was afraid that I might tell you, so you see how much reason I have to be grateful."

"I am much more indebted to you," said Otto. "I haven't had to do that work in the schoolroom again, and that I disliked much more than punishing Chappi, so we shall have to call it even."

Miezi, who had been the gayest of the party all the evening, waved her hand in answer to the last farewell, and then the guests were lost to view. Joiner Andreas sat down by the window in his accustomed place, but Wiseli first restored order to dishes and furniture. When she had finished that task, she went to her father and said: "Shouldn't you like to hear the verses that mother taught me? They have been running in my mind all the evening, and I don't intend ever to forget them."

"I shall be very glad to hear them," said the joiner, as he took her on his knee. Then Wiseli, leaning on his shoulder and looking out to the stars, repeated with joyful heart:

From this time on the little home of the joiner, nestling among the flowers, remained one of the happiest in the world. Wherever Wiseli went, people were so polite to her that she was quite astonished, for they had scarcely noticed her before. Her aunt and uncle Gotti never passed the house without coming in to see her, and they always invited her to make them a visit.

Wiseli was very much relieved to see their friendly manner, for she had had secret fears as to how they would accept the situation. She was glad to live in peace with all the people about her, but she said to herself, "Otto and the rest of the Ritter family were kind to me when I was unhappy and poor, but the others paid no attention to me until my father took me, so I know where to look for my real friends."

PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY OF PROPER NAMES